


Theoretical Reproductive Biology

by DeadBart



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fun with Punnett squares, Quasi kidfic, Season 3 Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadBart/pseuds/DeadBart
Summary: Jeff and Annie find a fun application for their biology education. Much more wholesome than that description and title make it sound.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger
Comments: 9
Kudos: 106





	Theoretical Reproductive Biology

**Author's Note:**

> Set between 3x10 Regional Holiday Music and 3x11 Urban Matrimony and the Sandwich Arts

Jeff was, remarkably, early. An incident involving a man known to Greendale’s local police force as the Raw Poultry Pervert had resulted in the closure of his gym for the day, so his plans for the hour before the study group’s Monday morning meeting were nixed. He walked into the study room to find (of course) only Annie already at the table 45 minutes before they’d scheduled to meet.

“Hey.” Jeff greeted her.

Annie jumped, having been too lost in her focus on her biology notes and what looked like some kind of turbo nerd crossword puzzle to notice Jeff’s arrival.

“Ah- Hey!” she stammered, “What are you doing here so early?”

Jeff dropped his textbook and binder of notes (actually mostly a binder of doodles and nothing) on the table and sat down in the seat next to Annie, one to the left of his usual spot.

“That guy rubbed raw chicken all over the gym, so my plans for the morning fell through.” Jeff sighed. He pointed at the table of squares filled with letters she’d been so focused on. “What’s that? I didn’t study that.”

“They’re Punnett squares!” Annie announced with a grin. Jeff scratched the back of his head.

“And that is...?”

Annie slid the page over so he could see more clearly.

“Each side shows the genes one of a pair of parents has for a particular trait.” she explained, tracing her finger along the horizontal and vertical edges of one of the little tables of four squares.

“This one is for hair. See the genes on the horizontal are from one parent and the genes of the other are on the vertical.” she continued, “This is a really reductive way of looking at genes, but you can use it to figure out what anyone’s kid might look like. Its kind of fun.”

“Who’s this chart for?” Jeff asked.

“Troy and Abed.” Annie laughed, “They asked me to figure out what their genetically engineered hybrid clone would look like.”

“Of course.” Jeff chuckled. Annie looked back down at a few empty tables she’d drawn up and ran her fingers over them.

“We uh- we could do a couple if you want.” she offered.

Jeff tried to ignore the subtle increase in his heart rate. Memories of last week’s Santa fetish lap dance hovered at the perimeter of his thoughts. He mentally swatted them away.

“Uh yeah definitely. For fun right?”

“For fun. Definitely. Totally yeah.” Annie agreed. She picked up her purple pen and started writing lower case “b”s along the edges of one of the tables.

“This one’s eyes. Kind of a throwaway. Blue eyes are recessive and we’ve both got them so we know for sure we’re both contributing a blue eye gene here.” she explained, filling in all 4 squares with “bb”.

“So the kid’s definitely got blue eyes. Got it.” Jeff found a picture starting to form involuntarily in his mind.

“Yep. I mean there’s mutation and stuff, but the odds are pretty good.” Annie said, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips. She was starting to write in a series of lower case “b” and one single upper case “B” along the edge of the next table.

“What’s this one?” Jeff asked.

“Hair.”

“I hope its a yes for hair.” he teased. Annie swatted him and started filling in the boxes.

“Its for colour! Hair colour is complicated and you can get different expressions of genes, but we’ll look at it simply. I’ve got my mom’s brown hair and not my dad’s blond hair because brown hair is dominant and blond is recessive.” She squinted at his hair for a second, “What colour was your hair when you were a kid?”

“A lot lighter.” Jeff responded, running his hand through his hair’s manufactured messiness. Annie nodded and smiled, probably drawing a mental picture of his awkward ten year old self.

“Okay so there’s a 75% chance of brown hair. 25% for blond.” Annie announced, finishing the table.

Jeff’s brain continued involuntarily painting a picture of this theoretical child. The part of him that consistently lost money to Ian in soccer bets assigned the kid a mop of unruly blond hair above his familiar bright blue eyes. The part of him that was composed of daddy issues down to the molecular level decided he was definitely a boy.

Jeff glanced up from the page at Annie. She was carefully returning a few pages of loose notes to her binder, marking important passages with little tag stickers. He imagined her fussing with the same level of care over the little blue eyed boy. Adjusting straps on a car seat. Combing unruly hair. Worrying way too much as he stepped onto a school bus for the first time. Jeff checked himself before he fell headlong into this fantasy wormhole.

“Uh is that it?” he asked.

“Yeah mostly I mean you can get into the weeds with like ear lobes and noses and stuff, but the eyes and hair are the fun part.” Annie answered. Jeff noticed a happy expression and a contented sigh escaping as she continued to edit and arrange her notes. When the humming started he knew she was at least ankle deep in a fantasy of her own.

The rest of the group drifted in over the next few minutes and chatter and bickering filled the room. Troy and Abed started sketching their hybrid clone (with included cyborg components, of course) and speculating about its ability to survive sharknados and zombie apocalypses.

Ending a debate with Shirley, Annie looked back at Jeff, still seated a little closer to her than usual, and smiled. He returned the expression before calling everyone to order so they could get to whatever approximation of work they would manage that day.

The mental picture of he and Annie and the little boy still lingered in his mind. He figured he’d hold onto it for a little while. Maybe a week.


End file.
